


The Beauty and The Tragedy

by mlady_lyarra



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-War for the Dawn, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlady_lyarra/pseuds/mlady_lyarra
Summary: After war for the Dawn, Arya Stark is forced to become lady of Winterfell. Her life turns upside down by that. How she deals with it? And what happens when she gets a letter from King's Landing with a call to go to south? With that, old loves and unfinished business returns.





	1. Not a common lady

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. English isn't my mother language, so there could be some mistakes. I would be glad if you warn me about them. If you like the story, don't worry and write me to the coments. It really helps me with writing.
> 
> Also, title is from song The Beauty and The Tragedy from Trading Yesterday

_You will_ _never be_ _a_ _proper_ _lady_ , Septa Mordane told her all the time. She hasn't felt like one. If „be a proper lady" meant wearing fancy gowns and being sent to marry some fat old lord, whose squawking babes she would bear, then no, she wouldn't be a lady. She didn't want to leave her beloved home and everyone she love. She didn't want to be trap in some foreign, inhospitable castle with unfamiliar people, who would critize everything she does. She would have to do all that her dumb lord husband wants.

 _No, it's not life for me. I'm not like other girls. I don't like love songs, I can't sing, play the harph or sew. Most importantly, I don't even want to can do it. I want to learn to fight with sword, hit every target with longsbow and ride a horse faster than wind blowns. I want to be free. Why must I follow those stupid rules? There's_   _so much girls in history of Westeros that became knights, warriors or wise rulers. And without men._ She told her father again and again, but he always just smiled sadly and said that it waits for her too. „You're Stark of Winterfell, my dear. You're highborn lady. In your veins flows blood of the First men. I understand, you have wildness in you, Arya. You were named after my father's mother, Arya Flint. I never talked to her nor met her, she died years before I was even born, but I heard a lot about her. They say she was as wild as wildness itself. Yet, she married lord Rodrik Stark, the Wandering wolf. So shall you, to continue our blood line. It wouldn't be that bad, would it?" And then, then she saw pain in his eyes every time. He doesn't want it too, she thought. But it's his duty as a father - to marry off his daughters and create them better future, as mother often said. Bullshit. It won't be better future for her. She won't be happy with some foreign lord far away from home.

But things are different now. She's not a child anymore and father isn't here too.

How could she surmise that father will be right? How could she surmise that she will really become one of them?

She become a lady from different reasons than everyone would suppose. There's no lord husband, no fancy, meretricious gowns or bunch of babes. No one told her what should she eat or how to smile nicely, how to be have to other lords or how to speak with common folks. No, she wouldn't be labeled as ideal lady, but why should she follow other's opinions? As Tywin Lannister once said her, when she was his cupbearer back in Harrenhall _, a lion doesn't_ _concern himself_ _with_ _the opinion of sheep_. And if lions doesn't, why would wolves then?

After all, if she's content with it, there's no reason to change it, is here?

Ha! She wondered what would her nine-year-old me react if it saw this - herself as a lady, and most importantly - happy about it. Probably, she wouldn't even recognize herself. She wouldn't believe that this woman is her.

Once Arya Horseface, Underfoot, Arry, Weasel, Nan, No one and many more names...

And now... now Arya Stark, lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. _It doesn't sound so bad, does it?_ Despite she never desired it, she took her role. It was her duty. That damned duty. Her father was dutiful, her mother too, and how they ended? But duty was neccesary. In these years she had to remind her mother's house words many times.

_Family, duty, honor._

Three most important things in her life.

Many times she wanted nothing but take Needle, persistent horse from castle stables and leave for adventures. Maybe never come back. After all, it was her and Jon's unspoken dream. But everything is different now. Jon Snow became Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. With his aunt and wife in one person he sat on the Iron throne. Now he's King of the Seven kingdoms. _Strange things happens now,_ she thought. She's now Wardeness of the North and there's no time for childhood's dreams.

She must protect and guard half of the Westeros.And her remaining family need her.

Rickon is still just a boy, it doesn't matter that he's head taller than her now. And fierce as wolwerine. He always was so full of rage, but his stay at Skagos only multiplied it. These wild folks taught him so much. And after his return, Arya taught him herself.

She moved her gaze to training yard. Here he stood, against Brienne. They taught him alternately - Arya Water dancing and Brienne proper Westerosi swordplay. Rickon was, just like his sister, quick learner. Arya could see how was his face twisted in concentration. It reminded her of the times when she learned how to fight back then in King's Landing with Sirio Forell. _Good old times_. Loud cheering woke her from her thoughts. She smiled. _Rick really enjoyed it, didn't he?_ Gods, it would be great if he enjoyed his lessons about history and lordship as well... As heir of Winterfell he should know about other houses and how to take care of his castle and lands alongside with his people.

Bran... _Bran isn't that little brother she used to know._ He talks about himself as Three eyed raven. Back then, he was always so easy to love and smiled a lot - he was also their mother's favourite. She told them all the time that she love all her children equally, but it was clear Bran was special to her. Now he was different. He faced so many horror, just as her. He didn't talk about it very much and she didn't ask him. It's hard for her to talk about it too, then why would he?

She returned to her thoughts about ladyship.

Eventualy she got used to it. It was long and difficult way, but Arya was adaptable. She was always very good at household management and now she could use it. _For what would be seving and plaing a harph now, huh?_ Back then, Septa behaved like only important thing is to can seving narrowly. She always knew that it wasn't true and it only proved true now.

Arya sighted again, leaned on the railing and watched action on the courtyard below herself. It's not so long from that day when the raven arrived from Citadel with short note tied to it's leg. _Spring is here_ , it said. Finnaly. Everybody were so happy. Immediately, they started repairing ruined buildlings. Weather allowed it now. Ice slowly melted and snow was almost gone. Only some stacks remained, as usual.

Battle againist Others left so much damage on the castle. Fire scorched third of the keep and library was almost ruined too. The second mentioned buildling was burned once, not long after they left with father to King's Landing.

When all this misery started.

Now it was repaired by craftsmen from all the North. Farmers which resided in Winter town and still haven't returned to their homes helped them. They worked quickly and Arya was glad. She can't bear the view at ruined castle, her home and favourite place. It reminded her of so much happy memories, when her family was still whole and in safety.

Winterfell slowly returned to it's antecedent glory. The North was over past thirteen years destroyed like never before. After the War of Five Kings, respectively after the Red wedding, population was significantly reduced. Greyjoy's attack and domination of Boltons hurt it even more. Folks suffered, they were hungry and poor and robbery raids were on daily basis. This problem was there still, Arya tried to prevent it hardly. Sometimes it was succesful, sometimes not.

After the Battle of Hardhome, Jon Snow brought free folks from lands beyond the Wall to the North. Many men tried to persuade him, told that it was terrible idea, but he didn't obey. Free folks decided to stay south from the Wall and settled down at desolated farms, villages and castles and North began to rise again.

Until the war againist Others.

These mistical creatures with ice-blue eyes and deadly cold breath fighting with weapons made from some unknown metal were the powerfullest enemy North had ever faced. They killed everyone they met - men, women, children, infants, old and animals too. After the killing was done, Others controlled their corpses and added them to their Army of dead. It seemed like nothing can stop them. Only dragonfire, Valyrian steel and Dragonglass - unique kind of obsidian.

Arya sighted. Living were affected almost not prepare, only thank to Bran they knew about marching dead about two weeks before first battle. Still, it was painfully little time to prepare properly. Folks trained themselves in the art of fighting while smiths made weapons all day long. Sometimes they even stayed in the forge over night, just to be sure there will be enough blades. Nerve-racking war meetings were thrown sometimes even thrice a day. They discussed the best strategy again and again. It was wery tiring. In the end living really won.

She wouldn't forget the euphory that took over her when she saw blade of Longclaw pierce though Night King's chest.

But victory cost way too much. Many innocent died - families were torn apart, people lost their friends and so, so many were injured. Arya, also affected by loss, _terrible loss_ , helped where she could.

She wiped hot tears, which were forming in her eyes. She was so emotional after _that_. She reminded herself that she must be strong, that she must be example for her people. During the day she was succesful. But in the night, when she laid in her featherbed, alone and without nosy looks, despair prevailed and she cried into her pillow.

She hated it.

She felt so vulnerable. It was amplified even more by her training with Faceless men. Then, she was beaten every time she showed some unwanted humanity. Every supressed emotion now burst out and she didn't know what to do with it. So she decided to let it go and continue with her night weakness. Rickon often visited her in her bedchambers and curled with her in her featherbed. In his seventeen he was much taller than her and could easily cover her body with his. He hushed some soothing words in her ear and reminded her that they're in it together. Most importantly, that it wasn't her fault. It reminded her of the times on King's road when Gendry did the same. Every time she thought of him, she felt her heart aching. 

It was her fault he wasn't with her now.

Suddenly, she had a feeling someone was watching her. She turned around and really, Bran was on the other side of gallery, sitting on his wheelchair Maester Wolkan designed for him, wrapped in woolen blankets with usual serious expression drawn on face.Arya shiwered. After years of training with Faceless men she still felt unconfortable when her younger brother looked at her that way. What an irony...

Slowly, she left her spot by the railing and made her way to him. His eyes still didn't leave her. When she reached him, she put on a shy smile, but his expression was still same.

„Bran, is there something I can help you wi-" but she didn't get a chance to finish. He fixed his eyes with hers. Light blue eyes that all the Stark's children, except her and Jon - _you silly, Jon isn't even a Stark or your brother. He's Targaryen, he was all the time. Your cousin. But it mattered nothing, Jon will be always her big brother, as she will always be his little sister._

She studied his face. He had nothing of their father, except that his face was a little bit longer than other Tully-looking Starks. His jaw was sharp with a hint of slowly growing beard. One stray lock of curly auburn hair fell into his face. He kept his hair shorter than when he was a boy. Now it looked almost same as Robb's hairstyle she remembered.

„Is there something you need to tell me?" she finnaly asked him, after she realised he wouldn't tell her first.

„How you know?" he finnaly broke his gaze and looked to the training yard, watching a clash of steel.

„Why would you came for me if you didn't want to tell me something?" she smirked.

He looked back at her tiredly. „Well, yes. Raven came from King's Landing this morning. Maester Wolkan told me he could bring it to you himself, but I wanted to talk to you anyway," he said and pulled out his hand from blankets he was wrapped in and passed her a letter. It was secured with black wax with dragon emblem. House Targaryen.

„Wouldn't you mind if we go indoor? It's more private and more comfortable here."

She nodded and followed him into the keep.


	2. Ghosts of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy:)

 Arya closed doors of her solar behind them. When she turned, she saw that Bran was already sitting at the table in the middle of the room. She undressed her heavy cloak and took off leather gloves. It doesn't matter it's spring already, in the North was still cold. She remembered how her father used to wear furs all the time, even in the summer. Arya crossed the room and sat opposite her brother.

„Do you want something to drink? Wine, mead or some ale?" she asked him before opening the letter.

„I don't suppose the news will be so bad," Bran grinned. She looked at him curiously. It was strange to see him joking. He was always so serious after their reunion. She almost forgot how his eyes sparkled when he smiled. Finnaly, he was slowly, very slowly becoming her little brother again. It pleased her.

She chuckled. 

„Well, if you don't mind, I will pour myself some wine," said Arya while she lifted the bottle and filled bronze cup with bloody red liquid. He was studying her with that weird look again. _Oh, you fool. Of course it won't be this easy. Remember how hard it was after Braavos to return to your previous life again? You even really wasn't No one! But Bran became the Three Eyed raven. He gave up his identity. He did what you wasn't strong enough for. And he paid for it._

„Arya..." his voice brought her back to reality. She noticed that cup was already full and liquid was overflowing over the edge. She quickly stopped pouring and wiped wine from the table by piece of fabric. „Fuck!" she cried and lifted wet piece of parchment. „ It was letter to Widow's watch. They need some braised cabbage." 

„Arya."

„And dried meat."

„Arya."

„They almost ran out of supplie-" 

„Arya! It will be all right. After we'll be done, I will inform Maester Wolkan," Bran told her squeezing his nose root. 

„Shall we begin?" he asked, after the table was clean again. She nodded silently and after breaking the seal, she pulled out the letter. 

 _Arya of house Stark, lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North,_ said the title. 

 

_Lady Stark,_

_I was predetermined to inform you about this matter. As you being one of the King and Queen's lords paramounts, we demand your presence at the Great council. It's traditional event - every spring, since reign of Aegon I., Crown's bannermen meet in King's Landing to discuss important matters they couldn't solve during winter. Like every time, you'll get some time to prepare for travel._

_Within three moon turns, you'd be able to inform your vassals and join us in the Crownlands._

  _I hope you won't have any problems and that you will safely arrive._

_Signed Tyrion Lannister,_

_H_ _and of_

_Queen_ _Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen, first of Her name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynals and the First men, Protector of the Realm, Lady of Seven Kingdoms, Queen of Meeren, Silver queen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Mhysa, Breaker of Chains, Bride of fire and Mother of Dragons_

_King Aegon „Jon" of house Targaryen, seventh of His name, The resurrected, King of the Andals, Rhoynals and the First men, Protector of the Realm, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, The White Wolf, Prince that was Promised, the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Beater of the bastards and Friend of the Free Folk_

_  
_

She stopped reading and looked at the Bran with one eyebrow raised. 

„So, what do you think?" he asked her and leaned on onto his wheelchair. She thought about her answer some time. 

„I think Jon and Daenerys should shorten their titles. Really, they're longer than letter itself," she smirked. After seeing his serious look, her joy fell. 

„No, seriously, I must inform bannermen and set off as soon as it's possible. We're the most outlying kingdom and it will take so long to get to King's Landing," she stood and began to march nervously around the room. It will be her first test if she's fitting in a position of the lady. And moreover in that important situation like this one! _Gods be good,_ she thought. There will be amount of other lords, her only luck was that plenty of them, almost everyone, will be facing it for the first time like her too. Lord Tully, Lord Tarly, _Lord Baratheon_...

Now she was even more nervous. _Gods, you stupid, of course, it was clear you will be facing him soon or later_. She only didn't suppose it will be so soon... 

She shaked her head. _Back to the problem_ , she commanded herself silently. 

 _Oh, another important matter._ What about her bannermen's loyalty? Yes, she helped her people survive winter, but what now? Will they still adore her like before? She'll must act wisely and think out every step if she wants to keep their loyalty and faith in her. It will be hard, she knew. Northerners are stubborn and didn't trust easily. They're still pissed Jon gave up his positions as King in the North and bend the knee for that foreign Targaryen queen, as they named her. Sometimes Arya thought her bannermen didn't even think. It was neccesary for Jon. If he didn't do it, they would be certainly dead now, or they would rise as soldiers of the Army of Dead. It was years now but it was still big problem. 

„Don't you mind?" Bran interrupted her thoughts. He pointed at the bottle of ale. She nodded silently and he poured himself a full cup of that liquid. „So, who will you take with you?" 

„Brienne, for sure. Even if I didn't want, she will follow me. You know, after death of..." No, concentrate... „After you know that, she follows me like a hound."

„Yes, you should take him too..." he said, slowly sipping his ale. 

„Whom?" she asked confused. 

„The Hound, of course. He's a good fighter and I think North isn't good for him. You heard him..." he chuckled again. What the hell is happening?! 

„Gods, Bran. I'm not taking him with me. I enjoyed it pretty well before, thanks," she rolled her eyes. „I'm sure he won't want it either."

After it, there was a long silence between them. 

„I..." started Arya, „I thought about taking Rick with me. Finnaly, he's my heir and it would be good for him to meet another lords and ladies. He never was souther than the Neck. In his years, I was in Crownlands, Riverlands, even in Braavos."

„That was different," said Bran calmly. _After all, he's got a point_. It was war then and she did it for survive. It's completely unlike situation now. 

„Aye, you are true. But still, he needs to learn something about other lands."

He looked her in the eyes, serious expression drawn on his face. 

„Don't forget, there must be always Stark in Winterfell."

„And what about you? You will stay home, I suppose. It'll be a long and difficult journey even for us, and what about you? In your... condition."

„My condition...you're talking like I'm pregnant, Arya."

„Brandon!" she snapped. „You know about what am I talking. As I said, you'll stay at home and me with Rickon will head south, aye?" she looked ať him with a raised eyebrow. 

„And as I said, there must be always Stark at Winterfell. And I'm not a Stark."

„Of course you are, stupid! You're Brandon Stark, son of late Eddard Stark and Catelyn Stark. Brother of Robb, Sansa and Rickon. Even my little brother!" she cried. It was really tiring and she only wanted to rest. Day was long and she knew she will have her nightmares again. She wasn't strong enough for all of this. 

„Oh my sweet summer child. I'm not a boy you used to know anymore." It only made Arya angrier. „I gave up my identity."

„As me!" she growled. 

„No, Arya. You never trully became No one. You said you were always Arya Stark of Winterfell. That night when you left, remember? You declined his offer. I saw that. I saw many things, so many things, nobody will know what all have I seen. I saw alliances and betrayals, battles and intriques, loves and hopes. I saw so many deaths and births, bad memories and the good one. It slowly, wery slowly absorbed me. With every new vision, I became more and more someone else. I will never be same again. Now, I'm finally the Three Eyed raven, nor Brandon Stark. I can't hold any titles... _it doesn't really matter._ I'm here to serve Gods. Finnaly, I know who I am. And not, it really isn't Bran who I am."

She shivered. 

„So. As I said before, you should leave Rickon here. Go south alone, it would be better for both of you. You'll see soon." With that words, he wheeled his wheelchair out of her solar. Before disapperaring completely, he turned one last time and looked her in the eyes. 

When doors closed behind him, Arya sighted. 

 

 It was foolish to suppose he will be _normal_ again. He faced many bad things in his youth, weaker people wouldn't even bear this. 

 

Then, she took on her fur lined cloak, similiar to the one father wore and came out of the room. After locking door, she quickly went though keep to the countyard. She looked up at the ink dark sky, only stars were shining. Without them, she wouldn't be able to see anything. It was unusually quiet here. Of course, all the craftsmen and other folk were already at their homes in Winter town, eating their dinners and resting with families. _I will be with my family soon too_ , she thought. 

 First, she went to the Glass garden and picked some winter roses from here. They were beautiful - indigo blue flowers, which she loved when she was little girl. Father always smiled and told her how much she reminded him of his sister Lyanna. _Jon's mother._

After passing the Armory, she came to heavy oak door. Then she picked up torch, hanging on the wall and opened them. The coldness cut through her body and she shivered. She slowly, carefully get down the spiral staircase. Silence was interrupted by clapping of her boots.

There was even colder down here, in Winterfell's Crypts. Cold walls were filled with graves of her ancestors - old Kings of the North, holding longswords and direwolves laying at their feet looked at her with their empty eyes when she passed around them. She was sure there was no one else than her. It was soothing - she found herself without taken and sometimes even judging looks of others. Not everyone were happy about her being a lady of Winterfell. But what should she done? Bran was that damn Three Eyed Raven and Rickon was too young to take care of his people in hard winter. Well yes, he was three years older than Robb when he became King in the North, but she wanted for him to enjoy childhood she never trully had. She will be so happy to pass him her positions and every titles she earned and finnaly become free. She stopped suddenly. Before her were the last graves, following ones were there for her and her remaining siblings. _An unpleasant idea._

First, she turned to face statue of elder man with long face. _We should have hired another sculptor, the one who know how father looked like,_ she thought. But it was difficult to find someone who knew late lord Eddard, almost everyone of them were dead already. She looked him in the eyes - if she could call that the cold pieces of stone. There were nothing like his - a stromy grey ones, similar to eyes she had, looking at her proudy and lovingly every time. Arya smiled sadly and put one of the flowers to his feet. 

Next to him she was. 

 

„Sansa," she whispered. 

 

There it stood, a statue of beautiful maiden, loved by everyone who even met her. _Oh, how she used to be jealous!_ Her sister was perfect at everything she done. Septa Mordane and mother always extolled her and cited her as an example for Arya. Her sister didn't make it better _. Oh, she still can remember how Sansa and Jeyne Poole used to tease her. Arya Horseface._ It was stupid. 

She only wanted them to understand her. 

She wanted to play with them, to be their friend. 

But they didn't want. Despite her tries, they still made fun of her and after realising it will be useless she stopped trying to befriend them. She found friends in Robb, Jon, Theon and Bran and was more than content with it. They treatened her well and she felt good with them. But everything ends. After arrival of king Robert Baratheon, she was forced to travel to King's Landing with her and their father. 

_All of this misery started then. We never should have left Winterfell._

Yes, she and Sansa were never close in their childhood. Only years of separation and horrible experiences made their relationship so strong. Old injustices were forgotten and they were finnaly like normal sisters. It would be foolish to fight among themselves when there were more important matters. 

 _When the snows fall and the wild winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survive_ , they used to say. 

Everything looked good. _Too good_. Of course something will go wrong. 

She would never suppose that mystical White Walkers will have something to do with it. 

But there they were, standing againist Others. 

Arya promised she will defend her loved ones. No more of them are going to die. It was a difficult task. Imposible one, she thought. Single person just can't protect all of the people he cared. And Arya _was_ a single person. 

After the Night King was killed, she was still scared. She knew she won't be calm before she see her pack alive and well again. Despite her previous doubts, it looked good. _Very good_. 

All of her loved ones were alright. She fought beside them, she knew they were.

Until her return to Winterfell. There she realised horrible truth - Wights broke though the Hunter's gate near the Kennels and destroyed everything they found and killed many people. Among them, Sansa. She was dead. Sansa, her lovely sister, who wasn't fighting in a battefield and about who Arya didn't doubt she will survive. 

She felt tears in her eyes again. Everything she had done after that was for her. She gave up her dreams and took on her duties as a lady. 

 

_For Sansa._

_Only for her_. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me see your opinion for this chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think? ;)  
> Write me your opinion  
> Next chapter will be soon.


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